


Petting Zoo

by mizjoelywhofics (mizjoelysotherfics)



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: (but not really), Angst, F/M, Romance, and a touch of 'aliens made them do it'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-25 12:57:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19746202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizjoelysotherfics/pseuds/mizjoelywhofics
Summary: When Tegan Jovanka left the Doctor the second time, it was forever...or was it? When she wakes up in a strange room, she knows her life has just been turned upside down again - and by Who.





	1. Waking Up In A Strange Place

Tegan awoke to an aching head. Worse than the pain was the fact she didn't know why it hurt. She hadn't taken anything harsher than a cup of tea before bed, and the ache was the kind that came after a serious night of bar-hopping with her cousins. The only alternative was the one she least wanted to face; she'd woken on more than one occasion with a massive headache while traveling with the Doctor.

She opened her eyes a crack, wincing at the new pain, then gritted her teeth and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, wincing once again at the rather more severe pain that motion brought her. She opened her eyes, then simply sat for a moment, trying to convince her stomach it wasn't really queasy.

If she'd been in her own bed, she might have succeeded.

After a moment spent arguing with her increasingly apprehensive stomach, the young Australian looked around, fighting down the panic that was rising at the sight of the unfamiliar room in which she now found herself imprisoned.

Definitely imprisoned; there was no door. Not a locked door, not a barred door, not even a door with a force-field over it. No door. None at all. It was as if she had simply materialized here, in this strange, barren room. _Very Star Trek,_ she decided as she rose cautiously to her feet.

Or very much like something from her life with the Doctor.

She squelched that thought mercilessly. She'd become very good at that, during the year since she'd given in to her fears and run away from the enigmatic Time Lord and his dangerous lifestyle. Oh yes, she'd gotten very good at not thinking about things she didn't want to think about. Fat lot of good it did her, if she was going to get dragged back into that life with no say in the matter.

"It won't do," she said, glaring at the walls. There were four of them, all the same, blank, sterile white. She looked up. The ceiling was just like the walls, white and featureless. The lighting something soft and discreet, came from each corner at the juncture of walls and ceiling. Not very encouraging. She turned her gaze to the floor, which looked very much like the walls and ceiling: featureless and white.

"I've no intention of getting myself mixed up in this sort of business again," she announced, still speaking to the room at large. "Go pick on someone else. Or pick on the Doctor; he can take care of himself, that one can."

Silence greeted her remarks, silence that stretched and grew until it gnawed at her nerves. "Hey! You out there!" she called, this time actively seeking a response. "I've retired, didn't anyone tell you? I got out of the universe-saving business. Can't you people do this to my replacement and send me back home? I won't tell, honest." She was whistling in the dark now, determined not to allow whoever her mysterious captors were to see how upset she was. After all, she should be used to it, shouldn't she? It wasn't as if it hadn't happened before.

Of course, whenever she'd found herself a captive in the past, she also knew why she was a captive, and she always knew that the Doctor would endeavor to rescue her. Even after the first time she'd left the TARDIS, once she knew her cousin Colin was involved in a struggle against a renegade Time Lord, she was confident it wouldn't be long before the Doctor came to the rescue. He had many faults, but was basically reliable; a sort of Galactic White Knight. But this time, after a year spent struggling to live a normal life and no indication of who her kidnappers were, she was afraid there would be no Doctor to rescue her.

And, a tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind, she was equally afraid there would be.

Tegan prowled the edges of the room, avoiding her thoughts by examining her prison. It was empty except for the huge, white bed, white sheets, white comforter, white pillows on which she'd originally awoken. She pressed her hands against the walls aimlessly, hoping for something - anything that might help her figure out where she was at least.. The hows and whys could wait.

She had no luck in that direction, but did discover, in the middle of the second wall, a door leading to what she somewhat doubtfully labeled a lavatory after studying it for a minute. There was something like a sink or a small tub with a spout but no handles, a definite drain in the middle of the floor, and various hooks on the back wall. Two of them held black coveralls, and that was all. Another discreet light source in the ceiling, and there you had it. "Talk about minimalist decorating taste." Tegan pushed curiously at the coveralls, speaking aloud for the sheer distraction of hearing her own voice. One pair looked like it would fit her, but the other was miles too large and more masculine in cut, which raised alarming possibilities on its own: if the one was meant for her, then who did the other belong to? Or was she just making assumptions? There could be perfectly simple reasons for the clothes, harmless reasons having nothing to do with her. "Yeah, right," Tegan muttered. "And rabbits can fly."

She backed away from the door, hoping to find something more constructive and less disturbing built into the next wall.

Someone was behind her.


	2. In the Arms of the Enemy

Tegan whirled to face the intruder, or at least tried to. He was standing far too close for her to manage more than a half-spin that left her as off-balance physically as she was mentally. He thrust out a casual, black-clad arm to catch her around the waist and keep her from falling backward, his other arm encircling her shoulders, and Tegan found herself being held in an embarrassingly intimate embrace.

The embrace of the Master.

Once the shock of recognition wore off she jerked in a reflexive attempt to escape. The Master was having none of that; he merely tightened his hold and deepened his smile. After a moment, Tegan stopped; he didn't have to say "resistance is futile" for her to realize it was. She glared up at her captor. "What do you want? I should have known you'd be behind this."

Her anger only served to deepen his amusement; the smile became a grin, and the grin a chuckle. "What do I want?" he repeated mockingly. "Standing in a bedroom with a beautiful woman in my arms?" The arm around her shoulders snaked downward in a caressing motion, stopping at her left breast. He squeezed it as gently as a lover and leaned his head close to hers in order to breathe in her ear: "What could I possibly want?"

Tegan's struggles returned as panic blossomed. Unfortunately all she succeeded in doing was turning herself in his hold so that her entire backside pressed snugly up against him. She felt him chuckle, his breath stirring the ends of her hair as the arm encircling her body tightened its hold, pinning her own arms firmly to her side. His free hand slid downward, velvety glove whispering against skin and cloth as he dipped his fingers toward the top of her shorts, grazing her navel and causing her to shiver reflexively, half in involuntary physical reaction and half in revulsion.

_This isn't happening_ , her mind gibbered. This wasn't how she'd planned her day to end, a day spent puttering around in her grandfather's garden. She was wearing a skimpy yellow halter and denim shorts and not much else; far, far too little in the way of clothing for her current situation. She kicked backwards but only managed to trap her leg between his, a situation he took immediate advantage of by using his leg to force hers farther apart.

Panic exploded into a mindless need to get away, to force him to let her go, but the Master ignored her frantic movements, seemed even to be enjoying feeling her squirm against him in her efforts to escape his hold. He abruptly ended his exploration of her body by moving his hand upward, taking her chin in a firm grip, fingers pressing painfully on either side of her mouth, squeezing it shut on the scream she'd been about to voice.

"My dear Tegan, calm yourself," the renegade Time Lord said dryly. "I was merely...jesting. I have no dishonorable designs on your body, no matter how fascinating it appears to be." A grin flashed across his face as he added: "However, I can't vouch for his intentions." He nodded over one shoulder, releasing her face as he did so.

Tegan's gaze involuntarily followed the direction of his nod, stopping on the bed, which was now occupied.

By the Doctor.

A gasp escaped her lips as she recognized the unconscious form, and she resumed the struggle to free herself. However unhappily she'd left the Doctor, however mixed up she felt about her time spent traveling with him, she still cared for him and needed desperately to know that he was all right. "Let me go!" she cried, her voice shrill with anger and fear. "What have you done to him?"

"I?" the Master asked in a tone of hurt surprise spoiled only by the usual mocking undertones with which all his words were spoken. "Oh, you're referring to his unconscious state."

"Yes I'm referring to his unconscious state, you bastard," Tegan hissed, jerking her eyes away from the Doctor to glare murderously over her shoulder at her captor. "What have you done to him?"

"Oh, he'll be fine," the Master replied carelessly. "It's merely the drug. He'll be up in no time."

Tegan stared at him, his earlier words finally penetrating. "Then what did you mean about his intentions?" she asked uneasily, halting her struggles. "What kind of drug did you give him? Something to—to drive him mad, make him think I'm his enemy? Is he going to try to kill me when he wakes up?"

"What a lovely idea; I wish I'd thought of it," the Master replied admiringly. He smiled his insincere smile once again as he finally released her and moved back a step. Tegan remained frozen, feeling uncomfortably like a bird before a snake, one that could—and would—strike at any moment. "Aren't you going to demand to know where we are?"

Tegan's gaze slid around the room, resting briefly on the Doctor before returning to the Master. She shrugged, pretending to a complete recovery from his oily insinuations and unwelcome embrace. "In a cell."

"More accurately, it's a cage," he corrected her opening his arms in an expansive gesture. "Welcome to the famous Cygnus Alpha Zoo."

Tegan gaped at him. "You're keeping us in a _zoo_? Why?"

The Master turned his back on her and walked toward the center of the room. "I've been assisting an acquaintance of mine, Keeper Oldarz, helping him with his...research." His gaze swept over the Doctor, then returned to her.

"What kind of research?" It took every ounce of Tegan's courage to voice that question.

"Keeper Oldarz is very interested in the cross-breeding capabilities of genetically similar races. As it turns out, Time Lords and humans are intriguingly genetically similar. So when he approached me, I naturally thought of my old friend. And you, my dear, were ridiculously easy to...acquire."

Tegan's mouth had gone dry. She started to speak, swallowed nervously, then tried again. "Why are you doing this?" she asked in a half-whisper as her fingers clenched into defensive fists. Part of her was intensely grateful that her grandfather was in London for the week-end; she couldn't bear the thought of the Master doing the old man some harm as he "acquired" her. The rest of her was chattering hysterically that this conversation was insane, thank you very much, and why was she still letting the Master talk instead of hitting him over the head with...with nothing. She had nothing to attack him with but her fists and she'd already seen how ineffective she was at fending him off. No sense in subjecting herself to further humiliation.

The Master responded to her question with an elaborate shrug. "Why?" His lips curved in another smile. "Perhaps I'm also interested in the reproductive capabilities of genetically similar species. Or perhaps I've decided that killing the Doctor wouldn't be half so satisfying as forcing him to do something against his will. Something that would hurt and humiliate him," he added, eyes glittering maliciously.

"And it has something to do with the drug you gave him? What kind of poison is it?" she asked with a glare.

"It's called Mythiryal," was the Master obliging answer. "It's a marvelous little aphrodisiac Keeper Oldarz discovered in the course of his research."

"An aphrodisiac? You mean some kind of...love potion?" Tegan asked, not sure she'd heard correctly. _Hoping_ she hadn't heard correctly.

"Yes an aphrodisiac, no, not a love potion," he replied with a disdainful sniff. "Mythiryal is a hormonal stimulant that has the virtue of working on almost every known humanoid species, which renders it invaluable to my friend's work. Once injected, it creates an irresistible urge or rather, series of urges to, shall we say, engage in the reproductive act," he finished delicately.

Tegan stared at him, unable to form a coherent thought in response to those words, let alone speak such thoughts aloud. The implications of the Master's earlier comments about cross-breeding hadn't really sunk in.

Until now.

He smiled at her reaction, continuing his explanation in the same placid tones. "It works cyclically, to stimulate the hormones of whomever has been injected with it. The cycle begins once consciousness has been restored; one of the side effects of Mythiryal is that it acts as a tranquilizer when administered."

His voice took on a lecturing tone that left Tegan almost hypnotized. "What most separates it from other hormonal stimulants is the fact that its effectiveness is directly proportional to the level of attraction between the two beings involved." He glanced down at the Doctor, then back over at Tegan with a slight, mocking smile. "If there's no initial attraction, it's much easier to resist. At first," he added in a tone of extreme satisfaction. "However, it becomes more difficult to resist the longer it remains in the subject's system, the more time it has to work on the subject's hormones. The deeper the initial attraction, the stronger the effect. Have I explained it clearly enough?"

"All too well," Tegan replied through gritted teeth. "But if you think the Doctor was ever attracted to me, you have got the wrong girl." Their formal leave-taking ran through her mind, all the times she'd hoped to catch his eye as her skirts got shorter and his attention remained fixed on other things than her legs. "We shook hands like a couple of…of business men when I left the TARDIS, for Pete's sake!"

The Master cocked his head inquisitively, then shrugged. "If you believe that, then so be it. It will have no bearing on the matter in the long run…or the short run. It's entirely up to you as to how all this turns out; if you're smart, you'll remove your clothing and let him wake up next to a beautiful, naked woman and let nature—and the Mythiryal—take its course. Or you could simply wait and allow him to suffer the consequences. Your choice."

Her choice indeed. Some choice. She refrained from looking back at the Doctor, keeping her eyes firmly focused on the Master, ignoring his provocative words and concentrating on what really mattered. "How long before it kills him?"

The Master shook his head and made a tutting sound. "You wound me, Miss Jovanka," he exclaimed, placing a melodramatic hand where his heart would be, if he had such an organ. "I assure you, the drug is not intended to kill him."

"Maybe, but 'not intended to' doesn't mean 'won't,'" Tegan snapped.

"If intercourse doesn't take place, there is the...slight...possibility that the subject could die," the Master admitted with a wolfish grin. "But only a very slight possibility, since it's never been known not to work. And friendly hand-shake good-bye or not, my dear Miss Jovanka, I assure you, I can tell when my dear old school-chum finds a lady attractive."

He moved away from the bed to stand in the center of the room. "Remember what I told you," he said as he touched the single gold button adorning his collar. "It's much more difficult to resist if there is already an attraction." He vanished in the beam of a transmat, only the sound of his mocking laughter fading away to remind Tegan of his presence.

The young Australian stared at the space he was no longer occupying, her hands clenching tighter and tighter, nails digging into her palms until one of them finally snapped. She snatched her hand up with a cry of pain, then reluctantly turned her attention to the Doctor.

He was out cold, sprawled across the bed in his familiar cricketer's outfit, minus the hat and jacket. One arm dangled over the side, while the other lay across his stomach. If what the Master said was true, and she had no doubt as to the truth of his words; after all, what would he possibly gain by lying? then waking the Doctor might be the worst thing she could do.

But then, she reasoned as she moved slowly forward, stopping when she reached the foot of the bed, the Master said it was easy to resist at first, and only lasted a short while. Her mind shied away from the whole "attraction" bit; he must've been reading something that wasn't there, trying to throw her off balance by suggesting that the Doctor had feelings for her. She knew that couldn't possibly be true. He had never given her any reason to believe he saw her as anything but another traveling companion, the same as Turlough or Adric or Nyssa. A bit noisier, perhaps, but certainly no different from anyone else he traveled with.

No matter how much she might secretly have wished things otherwise.

None of which had anything to do with here and now. She refused to give the Master the satisfaction of wasting her energy worrying about it. If she could wake the Doctor up, explain the situation, and get his mind working on the problem, he should be able to find a way out of this predicament. She certainly had no ideas; the cell cage, whatever was ingenious, if there truly was no way in or out except via the transmat.

"Beam me up, Scotty," Tegan muttered as she moved reluctantly to the Doctor's side.

Taking a deep breath, she sat down on the side of the bed and leaned over, gingerly shaking his unconscious form. "Doctor?" she whispered.

Nothing. Gritting her teeth, she shook him a little harder, called his name a little louder. Still nothing. Glancing around the room, her eyes fell on the still-open door to the loo. She could just see the edge of the sink. Maybe a little water would help...


	3. Enter the Doctor

The Doctor came abruptly awake, spluttering and thrashing as something cold and wet landed on his face. Another splash, and he groggily pushed his way to a partial sitting position, blinking and shaking his head.

"All right, all right! I'm awake!" he exclaimed, putting out one hand to stop his unseen assailant from wetting him again and bracing himself against the mattress with the other. His eyes felt grainy and his head ached abominably. He blinked as his vision cleared, his eyes widening as he saw Tegan Jovanka staring at him with a half-fearful, half-concerned expression on her face. "Tegan?" he asked, reaching forward impulsively to confirm her reality.

She flinched away from his touch, moving hastily from the edge of the bed he now noticed he was lying on. With a groan, the Doctor pulled himself to a more upright position, ignoring her reaction for the moment and instead examining his surroundings with a faint ghost of his usual curiosity. "Where are we?" he asked, finally returning his gaze to his erstwhile traveling companion. She was dressed, he noted with distant approval, as if for a summer's day, in a pair of cut-off denim shorts and a cheery yellow halter top that left far less to the imagination than anything else he'd ever seen her wear. His gaze traveled appreciatively over her legs, ending at the low-heeled sandals adorning her feet. Why hadn't he ever allowed himself to pay attention to her legs before? What am I thinking? he chastised himself, amazed at the turn his thoughts were taking. If what he suspected was true, this was neither the time nor the place for such nonsense.

"We're prisoners," Tegan confirmed those suspicions in a rush. She looked down at her feet, her eyes refusing to meet his. "Of the Master. He says we're someplace called Cygnus Alpha."

"We're in the Cygnus Alpha Zoo?" the Doctor asked. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, shaking his head once again, not in denial, but because it seemed to be getting fuzzier instead of clearing.

Tegan nodded, eyeing him with some alarm; he must look positively ghastly. "The Master brought us here."

"I should have known it was a trap," the Doctor muttered, without bothering to explain himself. His words came slowly; it was becoming more difficult to think with every passing second. He tried to stand, only to have his legs buckle beneath him. Tegan rushed to his side and helped him sit back on the bed. His hands tightened on her shoulders and would have moved down her arms if she hadn't pulled away from him. "Tegan, I have the rather nasty feeling there's something you're not telling me," the Doctor said, forcing his mind back to their current predicament with difficulty. Really, it was quite ridiculous! He always prided himself on his self-control and now his body was taking it upon itself to do things without his conscious permission. He'd have to give himself a good talking-to. Later.

"You've been drugged," Tegan replied bluntly, then darted her nervous gaze around the room. "Have you ever heard of something called...Mythiryal?"

Drugged. Well, that certainly explained his inability to keep his mind from wandering. Tegan's cheeks had gone very pink, he noted absently. It was actually rather becoming, she'd been so pale since he woke up. And she was wearing her hair a bit longer these days, almost to her shoulders with some wispy bangs curling over her eyes. Very attractive. "Mythiryal," he repeated after a minute spent trying to force his scattered wits to concentrate on the question instead of her physical appearance. Her extremely distracting physical appearance...He shook his head once again, this time in frustration. "The name sounds familiar, but as for what it does…Sorry, I'm having a bit of a hard time gathering my thoughts. What do you know about it?"

Tegan's cheeks burned even redder as she forced herself to meet his gaze. "Listen, Doctor; I know you're having a rough time, but you've got to concentrate. The Master said…he said…" she stopped, apparently unable to continue.

"Said what?" the Doctor asked sharply, her unease penetrating the mental fog. "Is it fatal?" That would certainly explain her reluctance to continue, and it seemed there was something about dying connected with the drug in the addled recesses of his mind. Botheration if it was; he wasn't looking forward to regenerating so soon after the last time. It hadn't even been a century; at the rate he was going through lives, he'd be at twelve and done for before he knew it!

A negative shake of the head was his reply as Tegan looked away once again. "No, it's not meant to be fatal. Unless," she added with a burst of gallows humor, "you count it as a fate worse than death."

The Doctor digested these words in silence. "I see." And he did, indeed, see; her choice of words, coupled with a sudden clearing of the haze infecting his mind brought the memory into sharper focus. Mythirial. Of course; now he remembered, although most of the details lay teasingly just beyond his mental grasp. "It's a sexual stimulant." Tegan nodded once again, still unable to bring her gaze to meet his. "What else did the Master tell you about it?" He tore his eyes away from the nape of her neck; they'd been lingering on the perfect spot for a kiss. At least now he knew why he was reacting to her in this manner. In this highly inappropriate manner.

"That it sort of comes and goes in waves, but gets harder to resist each time," she replied, clutching her arms to herself defensively. "He said his Keeper friend is interested in what you might call 'cross-pollinating'."

"Hmm." Tegan stole a glance over her shoulder. The Doctor was sitting in the same spot, hands on the edge of the bed, head down. "And the Master has presumably delivered us to this friend as part of his...interest?" he asked delicately. He looked up, locking Tegan's gaze with his own.

"Yes," she whispered, unable to pull her eyes away this time. "You've got to get us out of this one, Doctor. There's got to be a way!"

Silence fell over them. Tegan dropped her eyes to her nervously twisting hands and made a conscious effort to still them. There had to be a way, because she couldn't bear it otherwise. Not that she hadn't had thoughts, dreams, even the occasional fantasy but not like this. Not as an obligation, or a brutal necessity. Not when someone else was forcing it on them.

"How long?" the Doctor asked abruptly, breaking into her thoughts.

"What?" Tegan turned to face him once again with a confused frown. The frown disappeared as she realized what he meant. "I don't know. He just said it lasted longer each time, that the first time was the easiest. Why? Is it fading?"

The Doctor nodded cautiously. "I think so," he replied. He looked around the room as the fog finally started to lift. "No door, I suppose?"

Tegan shook her head, hesitating only a moment before moving forward to offer him an arm as he tried to stand once again. "Transmat," she said succinctly as he draped an arm over her shoulder. For support, she reminded herself as she forced her body not to flinch away. He'd said it was fading, and he certainly seemed more alert now; his hands and eyes had lost their tendency to linger. Good. "All I've found so far is the loo."

The Doctor nodded, his eyes busy cataloguing the distressingly few contents of the room. He moved toward the back wall, the one Tegan had been about to check when the Master interrupted her efforts.


	4. Be Careful What You Wish For

Twenty minutes later they still hadn't found anything, and Tegan was getting frustrated. She retreated to the middle of the room, carefully avoiding the bed as she watched the Doctor patiently tap and pat at the far wall for the fifth—or was it the sixth?—time. She was just about to tell him to give it up when he froze in place, then suddenly dropped his knees and bent his head to examine the floor. Tegan raced across the room, eager to see what had caught his attention.

The indentation near the junction of floor and wall was very slight, but it was there. The Doctor pried back the carpet, just enough to slip his finger under the baseboard, and pressed.

Nothing happened. He frowned, studied the area for another minute, then tried again, this time using two fingers on two different spots.

The random-seeming poking and prodding continued until the Doctor stopped to gesture Tegan forward. "Hold this for me," he instructed. She knelt obediently and grasped the edges of the white carpet, holding it back enough for the Doctor to get a better look. He studied the area again, then reached out and grabbed Tegan's wrist.

She pulled back, startled, resisting the pull of his hand. "Doctor!"

"Put your finger here," he snapped, continuing to tug her hand toward the wall until she stopped fighting him. "Right there, no, a little more—yes, that's it. Now keep a firm, steady pressure until I tell you to stop."

Tegan bit her lip in vexation, cursing the brittle state of her nerves as she did as she was asked, not bothering to snap back at the Doctor's brusque tone. After all, she wasn't the one fighting a hormonal stimulant while a panicky female waited for him to—to do what? Pounce? It seemed a little silly, now that she was thinking about it rather than just reacting; after all, this was still the Doctor. Self-control was his motto. A little thing like a sexual stimulant should be a snap for him to resist. Right?

He seemed to be resisting just fine, at least for now. Pushing aside her fears with an effort of will, Tegan waited to see what would happen with all the wall-pressing and rug-moving. With triumphant "Ah-ha!" the Doctor pressed two other spots just far enough apart to be awkward, then waited.

A humming filled the room. Instead of a door sliding to the side, however, part of the wall moved outward. Tegan and the Doctor scrambled out of the way, watching as a sort of desk projected into the room. Beneath it a small chair or bench swung out and snapped into place as everything stopped moving. Like everything else in the room the entire contraption was white with one exception: the screen of the computer terminal that sat squarely in the center of the flat surface.

"Well, let's hope it's user-friendly," the Doctor quipped as the screen lit up with a soft amber glow. He studied it for a moment before reaching forward and tapping a rapid sequence of numbers and letters on the keyboard.

"Why is it here?" Tegan asked, curiosity getting the better of her. "It seems an awfully silly thing to leave where the 'specimens' can get at it. Not that I'm complaining," she added hastily as the Doctor settled into the bench-like seat.

"We're not in an actual cage," the Doctor replied, his eyes studying the terminal with professional interest. "We're in a research cubicle, where the specimens are brought inside smaller containers via the transmat, for the Keepers to study before returning them to their habitats." He shrugged. "I'm sure it appealed to the Master's sense of so-called humor to tell you it was an actual cage, when it's obvious the lavatory was put in for the convenience of the Keepers."

"Then why bother hiding everything?" she asked, more to keep the conversation going than out of any actual interest.

"In case anything gets loose, naturally. Tegan," the Doctor interrupted himself tersely, "I need to concentrate, there's a good girl."

Tegan murmured her acquiescence to the back of his head as he continued working the keyboard with lightning speed, not bothering to express her indignation at being treated like a somewhat dim-witted pet for the umpteenth time. It was just the way he got, especially when he was working on a problem. Even if it did hurt her feelings, it wasn't worth having it out with him. Not now.

She was so focused on his actions that she nearly jumped out of her skin when something materialized on the floor next to her a few minutes later. "Doctor!" she exclaimed, looking around nervously as she realized it was a tray of food. Apparently their captors didn't want them to starve; she only hoped the food was on some sort of automatic schedule, and that its arrival wasn't a sign that someone was watching them.

When she suggested such a possibility aloud, the Doctor shook his head. "That's my doing. Eat something, we need to keep up our strength."

Tegan stared at him in delight. "You mean you got it working?" She jumped to her feet in the act of kneeling down to take a closer look at the tray. "Super!"

"Not so super," her companion retorted angrily. "All I've managed to do is access its most basic functions., like bringing us food. I haven't been able to get to anything else." He glared down at the console in disgust. "Certainly nothing useful."

Tegan patted him on the back consolingly, snatching her hand away as she remembered how unsafe a gesture that might be. After all, it had been a while since his initial hormone surge; who knew when the next one would strike? "Maybe you should take a rest," she said, covering her abrupt move away from him by picking up a plate and handing it to him. He took it automatically, still glaring at the innocently glowing computer screen before taking a bite out of the first thing his fork skewered.

"Well," Tegan said, after forcing down a few bites of what tasted somewhat like chicken in a thick gravy, "at least we know they're not watching us right now." The Doctor raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Wouldn't they have tried to stop us a long time ago?" She looked over at the computer. "I mean, they haven't shown up to keep you from mucking about with that thing."

"That may be true, but I wouldn't count on it," the Doctor replied, quashing her temporary hopes of privacy. "They may be monitoring us automatically. There are lots of ways to hide a camera if you don't want someone to know they're being filmed." Tegan looked around, alarmed, but was unable to locate anything even remotely resembling a camera as the Doctor continued: "Besides, I can't imagine the Master not watching and gloating over...this. If not live, then at least the recorded version, suitably edited."

Tegan shuddered. "Horrible," she muttered, staring down at her food before pushing the plate away. Suddenly she'd lost what little appetite she had.

The Doctor toyed idly with his fork before deliberately changing the subject. "Cygnus Alpha has always fascinated me; the entire planet is their zoo, you know."

"The whole planet? How'd they do it?" Tegan exclaimed, gladly seizing the opportunity to talk about something, _anything_ else.

"Terraforming. The planet was practically destroyed during one of the galactic wars; after the battles finally ended, the Keepers moved in and claimed it for their own," the Doctor explained. He didn't think it prudent to mention the planet's origin as a prison. "Everyone else was too busy squabbling for control of the galaxy to much care what happened here; it's not a very strategic spot, after all." He warmed to his subject. "The Keepers are almost fanatical environmentalists; since Cygnus Alpha had no viable ecosystem of its own left, they created an artificial one. Then they divided the planet into habitats for the creatures they import, separated by non-hazardous force-fields, with their labs and living quarters underground. And I shouldn't really call it a zoo," he continued, hurrying past that part of the description. "It's actually an endangered-species preserve. Not the type of place where crowds of visitors queue up to stare at the inhabitants."

"It sounds lovely," Tegan replied. Her brow creased in puzzlement. "If they're doing something like _that_ , then why are they doing something like _this_?" Her arm swept out, to take in the room and their current situation.

The Doctor shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "This experiment goes against everything the Keepers believe in; they neither keep sentient beings nor tamper with the natural evolution of the creatures brought here. Nor can I understand what they hope to learn from such an experiment." He placed his tray on the floor, absently wiping his fingers on his knees.

"Well, I'm sure I don't know," Tegan snapped, sorry she'd said anything now. She turned away. "Maybe they got bored or something." A sound escaped her that sounded suspiciously like a sob, and she moved away abruptly, stopping only when she reached the opposite wall from the one holding the desk.

She stood there, back turned, as the Doctor approached. Her shoulders were shaking, but aside from that first sob, she had fallen silent. He hesitated, then patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. Tegan had never been one for breaking down; this situation must be unnerving her a great deal. Not that he blamed her; he wasn't exactly comfortable with it himself and for more reasons than he was willing to admit. "Brave heart, Tegan," he murmured, the old words coming automatically to his lips, as naturally as if it hadn't been over a year since he'd last said them.

It was the wrong thing to say. Tegan broke into audible sobs and wrenched her shoulder free from his grip. "Doc, I've been threatened and attacked and nearly died a thousand times over but we've never been up against something like this." She glared at him over her shoulder through reddened eyes. "Tell me it's going to be all right, that you have a plan. Tell me you can get us out of this."

"Have I ever not got you out of trouble?" he asked as he reached once again for her shoulders. "Even if it's never been something as…troublesome…as this, I've never not come through for you. And I certainly won't start now."

Tegan avoided his eyes as he pulled her closer in an awkward attempt at a comforting embrace. She resisted a moment longer, then suddenly gave in, sobbing unashamedly into his collar. He held her, feeling both a sense of familiarity and one of discomfort. Although he'd comforted a disconsolate companion or two in his time, it had rarely been Tegan in need of a shoulder to cry on. No, she'd always managed to avoid breaking down, at least in front of him. Until the very end, of course

He frowned at the direction his thoughts had taken him. When Tegan had left he had put all his unresolved feelings—and when, he wondered, had he admitted to unresolved feelings in the first place?—had placed them far in the back of his mind and concentrated on whatever the matter at hand happened to be. Turlough, no doubt; finding that young man's family had helped a great deal to keep his mind off Tegan's abrupt leave-taking. And here they were, reunited, facing danger again, but this time the Master had disrupted the balance, turning the Doctor himself into the danger to be overcome. An enemy to Tegan, and a danger to both her and himself.

The Doctor continued to hold her as her tears subsided, while he tried to subdue his troubled thoughts just as she fought to subdue her own emotions. Control was the issue here, it always had been where the Master was concerned, but this was different. If he were to lose control now, the other Time Lord would get the best of him, but it would also cause irreparable damage to an already fragile relationship. Loss of control now, the Doctor realized suddenly, meant losing Tegan forever, a thought he couldn't bear to face.

Another unwanted revelation. The Doctor cursed the Master anew for zeroing in on a weakness he had denied even to himself.

Lost in his thoughts he failed to notice when the drug he'd been administered once again started to affect him, but Tegan certainly did. His hands went from awkward patting motions on her shoulders to a soothing rub that slowly wandered up and down from her shoulders to her waist…then a bit further south as he pressed himself closer against her and leaned his cheek on the top of her head and made an unintelligible murmuring sound against her hair.

She scrambled out of his embrace, the naked desire in his eyes matching the panic in her own. "Doctor," she said tightly, "you've got to fight it. You've got to!"

"Tegan, go into the lavatory and close the door," the Doctor instructed through gritted teeth. "If you're not in plain sight, it might be easier to resist." A thin sheen of perspiration broke across his brow. "It lasted only a few minutes before; you'd better give it at least fifteen or twenty before you come back out. Just to be safe."

Tegan nodded, then tore her eyes away from his as she ran for the dubious safety of the bathroom. She closed the door, but could find no way to lock it, only a flimsy-looking latch. So much for high-tech. She slid to the floor and sat facing the closed entrance. There was nothing to keep the Doctor from opening that door outside of his own self-control, which was rapidly slipping away under the Mythiryal's influence.

"Just hold out until we can get the antidote," she whispered. An antidote; there had to be one and she would bet anything she owned that the Master had it, if only to taunt them with. "You can do it, Doctor, I know you can." She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She'd fantasized more than once of a situation like this herself and the Doctor, alone together in a bedroom but fantasy had become nightmare, courtesy of the Master. Be careful what you wish for...

"Bloody hell." Tegan sighed and opened her eyes once again, then started counting the seconds to pass the time. She'd give the Doctor half an hour. Just to be safe.


	5. Mind Over Matter

The Doctor paced a small circle in front of the computer console, brow bathed in sweat, fists clenching and unclenching as he fought the effects of the drug coursing like liquid fire through his system. His eyes kept drifting to the wall that concealed the small lavatory, and it took a conscious effort of will to drag them away. His thoughts were cloudy and sluggish, tending only in one direction, and his struggle to control them was the most difficult of all. His one attempt to return to the mystery of the computer console was an unmitigated disaster; he almost smashed the keyboard in frustration before forcing himself away, to return to his agitated pacing.

He must have blacked out, a little; when he came to his senses, he was standing in front of the lavatory, reaching for the door. He snatched his hand back just as his fingers brushed the smooth surface, and a grunt of pure frustration escaped his lips as he forced himself to move away. He felt a dim sense of helpless disgust at his body's reactions, but it was overwhelmed by the false urgency created by the Mythiryal. Fighting himself in this manner was extremely unsettling; he was not used to this kind of inner battle. Battles to free his mind from alien influences; yes, those he'd fought many times, and, invariably, won. But never this type of influence. He had no experience in trying to overcome such a basic biological need. If only he didn't find Tegan so damned attractive...

Much as he wanted to blame that feeling of attraction on the effects of the drug, he was honest enough to admit to himself that wasn't entirely the case. He could no longer deny that he'd been fighting an attraction toward Tegan when she was still traveling on the TARDIS. It had been both a great relief and a bitter disappointment when she left him. Trust the Master to find the one woman with whom he'd ever crossed beyond the friendship and mutual respect that he usually limited himself to; the one woman to whom he'd formed a real emotional attachment. And the one to whom his growing physical attraction had been difficult to conceal.

Physical attraction…perhaps there was something he could do about this situation without involving Tegan. One hand hovered at the belt of his trousers. Masturbation wasn't a habit most Time Lords indulged in (although, to be fair, he could only go by his own personal experience in such matters), but if it would relieve the growing urgency, help clear his mind…All he had to do was call out to Tegan, tell her he needed to be the one in the lavatory. They could change places, he'd take care of things, the desire would pass and he could focus on freeing the two of them.

Then they could do whatever they wanted. Together. No coercion.

And all he had to do was relieve himself of his immediate need, then explain to Tegan…

Explain to her what? That the image of her naked body wrapped around his and the judicious use of his right hand had solved everything? His hand dipped lower, brushing against the fabric of his trousers, sending an electric jolt through his system, and, contrarily, clearing his mind.

Mythiryal didn't work that way. Self-gratification would lead only to an intensification of the drug's effects, rather than relieving them. It was designed to clear one's system only when two partners' bodily fluids commingled.

He shook his head, clamping his lips tightly shut just as he was about to call Tegan's name, forcing himself away from the door on shaking legs. He'd almost fooled himself into believing he was the one in control, rather than the drug. Once she opened the door and stepped into the room, it would be over; he could feel himself shaking with the need to take her in his arms, lay her down on the bed, strip off her clothing, and then…

A distant rage grew, and he encouraged it hopefully. Rage at his body for not obeying the commands of his mind, rage at his mind for lacking the strength to dominate in its usual manner, and, above all, rage at the Master. He'd been stripped of the one thing he most prided himself on, his self control, and all out of some sick need for revenge from an adversary who'd probably long since forgotten the original reasons for their enmity.

The rage continued to grow, and the Doctor could feel the drug-induced passion faltering beneath the strength of a more primal emotion, fading almost into insignificance at the force of his anger. The Doctor smiled grimly through the pain. Whether it was actually his anger that forced the effects of the drug into retreat or merely its natural cycle, he didn't care. His mind became clearer with every second, until he was once more aware of his surroundings. Dismissing the rage was almost easy. Intellect triumphed over emotion that wasn't being influenced by outside sources.

The Doctor blinked and rolled over. He'd collapsed to the floor sometime during his internal struggle for control, rolled into a tight ball against the foot of the bed. He straightened himself cautiously, wincing as his muscles protested the sudden release of tension. He pulled himself to his feet, stretching to relieve the ache that covered him from head to toe, then turned determinedly toward the computer console. Enough of this.

Time to get back to work.

**oOo**

Tegan cautiously poked her head out of the bathroom. She'd lost count of how long she'd been cooped up in the small room, but couldn't stand the suspense a second longer. She had to know. Her gaze swept the room, immediately finding the Doctor. He was seated at the computer console, back hunched in a manner that told her he was concentrating on the problem at hand. She felt herself relax slightly; it looked like the worst was over. For now. She shuddered, then stepped out into the main room.

She'd taken the time to throw on an extra layer of protection, so to speak, by donning the smaller of the two black coveralls and zipping it snugly to the base of her throat. At least arms and legs were completely covered, and if things got out of hand, well, then the Doctor would have to wrestle her out of two complete layers of clothing to get to her…and she'd be sure to give him a helluva fight if it came to that.

Or maybe she wouldn't, some devilish part of her brain suggested. Maybe she'd just give in to the inevitable while the Doctor had some semblance of control over the situation and pretend…pretend what? That he actually wanted her? That he welcomed the idea of her in his bed when he'd never shown any such interest in her before?

That thought was like a bucket of ice-water over her head. "Better keep your head on straight, Tegan," she chastised herself as she forced herself to walk over to where the Doctor was working. "Things'll work out. Think positive, girl, think positive."

"Words of wisdom," the Doctor said, not bothering to turn around as she continued to approach him. "As you can see, things are back under control."

"For the moment," she added, causing him to turn and look at her briefly over his shoulder.

"For the moment," he conceded as he turned back to the keyboard. Tegan looked at it as well, and a small gasp escaped her lips. Across the top of the screen were the words "Main Menu - Restricted Access". Below that was a list of commands, one of which read "Transmat Activation".

The Doctor looked up at her, a triumphant smile on his face. "Got it! They thought they had it locked, but they didn't count on my computer abilities. I'm surprised the Master underestimated me like that," he added with an annoyed frown. "It's very uncharacteristic."

"Maybe he didn't know it was here." Tegan brushed aside the question of the computer, concentrating on the one question that most urgently needed answering. "Can you get us out of here?"

The Doctor nodded. "I think so. It looks as if the transmat controls are only programmed for two destinations from this point, but I'm certain we can access a more central control area from there."

"What if there's a reception committee?" Tegan asked nervously.

"I'm willing to risk getting caught if you are; after all, what have we got to lose?" the Doctor quirked an eyebrow questioningly, and Tegan nodded after only a small hesitation. He was right; what was the worst that could happen? Most likely they'd get sent back here, only with the computer console well and truly disabled. And the bed and the Doctor's over-stimulated hormones waiting.

"Good." His fingers flew across the keys for a few more seconds, then he pushed himself away from the terminal and up from the chair. "Come on." He grabbed her hand and raced for the center of the room.

They barely made it to the exact spot the Master had occupied before the beam swept them up and sent them off to who-knew-where.


	6. The Mad Scientist's Lab

They materialized next to a long metal table in what looked to Tegan like a cinematic mad scientist's laboratory. A messy one at that, the critical part of her mind noted. It was also, she saw with a feeling of profound relief, unoccupied.

The Doctor released her hand and moved purposefully toward another computer, which was visibly superior to the one they'd just abandoned. Tegan followed, looking around uneasily as the Doctor plopped onto the stool in front of the computer. The room had the air of one whose occupants had just stepped out for a moment, and Tegan hoped no one would come back anytime soon. Especially the Master.

"What are you up to?" she whispered after a moment during which the Doctor did nothing but study the machine in front of him.

"Trying to find out where they've put my TARDIS, and if we can get to it from here," he replied absently, his attention still locked on the computer. He raised his fingers to the keyboard, typing in another dizzyingly fast sequence of numbers and letters. After a moment, a schematic of some sort appeared, what looked to Tegan's inexperienced eyes as building plans. "Ah-ha!" the Doctor exclaimed, again typing frantically.

Tegan didn't bother asking him what he'd found; she'd never get a decent answer out of him now. Instead, she prowled around the room, peering down at the unidentifiable contents of the many glass-like containers that littered the counters lining three of the room's four walls. There was no door here, either; if they had to depend on the transmat to get out, they could be in big trouble. All someone had to do was shut it down, and they'd be trapped.

When she nervously pointed this out to the Doctor, he shook his head, his attention still riveted on the keyboard. "Not possible," he denied, offering no explanation as to why.

Tegan had her doubts, but kept shut; it wouldn't do to distract him at a critical moment. Especially when they had no idea how soon another hormone surge would overcome him.

Ten minutes passed. Tegan came to an eventual stop behind the Doctor, nibbling absently on her broken fingernail and glancing over at him every few seconds. He hadn't moved from his seat; only his flying fingers and even breathing offered any indication he was still alive. The waiting, Tegan decided, was always the worst part, and she'd never been a very patient person. If only there were something for her to do...

The Doctor straightened in his chair, muttering irritably under his breath. Tegan turned to look at the computer. Lines of numbers and letters in no discernable pattern or order were scrolling rapidly across the screen, almost too quickly for her eyes to follow. She stepped closer, leaning her hand against the back of the Doctor's chair. Without removing his gaze from the screen, he said, "Tegan, would you mind bringing me that scanner over there?" and pointed toward a table just beyond the computer console. Close enough to reach if he stood up and leaned across the short distance, but it was obvious he didn't want to remove his attention from the rapid lines of data even for an instant.

Tegan nodded and moved to his right, careful not to block his view. She reached across and grasped the small, black box, taking it delicately between her thumb and forefinger. After all, you couldn't be too careful with alien equipment. She turned to hand it to the Doctor.

Their fingers met, and Tegan realized as his hand tightened around hers that it was happening again, much more rapidly and with far less warning than the first two times. She tried to pull free, reaching with her other hand to pry desperately at his fingers. "Please, Doctor," she whispered. "Please."

She could tell by the dreamy, unfocused quality of his eyes that she wasn't getting through to him, not this time. Apparently the Master was right about the intensity of the drug increasing each time. Wonderful. And no bathroom to hide in. Doubly wonderful.

"Tegan," the Doctor murmured. His grip tightened once again, and his free arm snaked around her waist as he pulled her toward him.

She found it impossible to break free of his grip, and briefly cursed the Doctor's Time Lord strength. "Doctor, don't do this," Tegan tried again as his lips pressed feverishly against her throat. He didn't answer, only reached up to pull her face down to meet his, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that left her breathless in more ways than one.

Without meaning to, without conscious thought, she found herself responding to the kiss, losing herself in the moment, caught up in the haze of pleasure. The Doctor's desperate grip eased, his hands sliding sensuously down her back then back up again.

Tegan's hands had been gripping the collar of his shirt, straining to push him away; now they held on even tighter, holding him against her body. She was straddling his lap in a manner that would have been embarrassing if anyone should find them that way, but she found it difficult to concentrate on anything except the feel of the Doctor's body beneath hers, his hands as they continued stroking her slowly from shoulder to hip and back again, the heat of his arousal beneath her.

The kiss deepened, and Tegan let out a moan, half of despair and half of desire. She wanted nothing more than to continue to kiss him, to stay in his arms and let nature take its course…but it wasn't nature, it was a drug, administered by a deadly enemy and with a particular outcome in mind.

She hadn't realized the Doctor's hand had moved around her body until she felt his fingers, warm even through the layers of coverall and halter top, brushing against her left breast. Her nipple immediately hardened in response to that gentle touch and she moaned against his lips a second time as his hand moved upward and reached for the zip to her coverall.

That small movement brought her back to her senses. With a sharp cry, she shoved herself off his lap and backed away, breathing heavily. "Doctor, we can't do this," she said hoarsely. "Please, you have to fight it. This isn't you, it isn't what you want, it's the drug, you have to remember that. Please!"

He ignored her words, stumbling to his feet and reaching for her, eyes heavy with desire.

How it might have gone after that Tegan was destined never to know; his feet tangled in the triangle of wheels beneath the computer task chair, the Doctor stumbled awkwardly to one side and attempted to right himself, but the near edge of the rolling cart he grabbed onto tipped, causing him to completely lose his balance.

Tegan cried out and reached for him, but it was too late. As he fell forward, he hit his head on the edge of the table and fell to the floor, unconscious.

Tegan rushed to his side, dreadfully afraid of what she'd find. She rolled him over on his back, ignoring a fearful voice in the back of her head that whispered he might be faking. She had to know that he was all right.

A nasty looking bump was beginning to raise itself on the Doctor's forehead, and there was a slight gash, bleeding profusely as head wounds tended to do. He was breathing, and even though he might have concussion she was a little hazy about the amount of force needed for that sort of injury, but thought being knocked out was a prerequisite he looked like he'd be all right. Now, all she had to do was wait and see how he reacted when he woke up.


	7. Keeper Oldarz, I Presume

The Doctor groaned, and Tegan nervously removed herself from his immediate line of sight, one hand clutching the handkerchief she'd been using to staunch the flow of blood from his forehead. Only a few minutes had passed; how would he be when he came fully awake?

The knock on the head appeared to have done more good than harm; when the Doctor opened his eyes, they were slightly confused, but there was none of the heated feverishness that meant the drug was still affecting him. Tegan breathed a quiet sigh of relief and forced herself to move back into his field of vision. "Doctor?" she asked, backing up a step in spite of herself as he heaved himself to a sitting position. "Are you all right?"

He nodded, touching his forehead gingerly and wincing as he felt the lump that had formed there. "I take it that my behavior became...inappropriate...once again?" It bothered him that he couldn't remember, that he hadn't even realized when the Mythiryal had taken over. He pulled his hand down, grimacing at the smear of blood staining his fingers.

Tegan nodded, reaching a tentative hand forward to help him to his feet, then offering the handkerchief to wipe his fingers. "You could say that. You clocked yourself on the table. I thought it would be a good idea to let you come around on your own."

He nodded, a wry grin passing across his face as he rose unsteadily to his feet, absently wiping his fingers on the handkerchief before making his way back to the computer. "I was concentrating too hard on what I was doing," he muttered, more to himself than to Tegan. "I didn't even notice..." His voice trailed off as he regained his seat, and Tegan moved back to her position behind his left shoulder as the Doctor's fingers, clumsy at first but quickly regaining their former agility, flew across the key board.

"Tegan."

She started at the sound of her name, looking nervously at the Doctor to see if it was starting up again. But no; he was still working steadily at the keyboard, his eyes focused on the screen. Why had he said her name?

"Yes, Doctor?" she asked, cursing the unsteadiness of her voice. Her heart had just got back to normal after everything that had already happened, and now it was racing again.

"I'm sorry."

She gaped at the back of his head before finding her voice. "It's not your fault, Doctor, it's the drug. If anyone owes me an apology, it's the Master; that son of a-"

The Doctor shook his head. "Not for what just happened, although I am sorry for that, too. I'm sorry for getting you into this mess in the first place. I seem to keep getting you involved in my problems after you've already tried to leave and live your own life. I'm sorry for this, and for Omega, and for Davros. And everything else that took the fun out of it."

Tegan didn't know what to say. It was as if they were having the conversation she'd hoped for when she left him the last time, half-running from him and the TARDIS on that London dock, afraid he'd come after her and afraid he wouldn't. He hadn't, and she'd felt cheated, later at home, of a really good row. She'd expected him to stop her, wanted him to, and he hadn't. That hurt more than anything, and now he was apologizing, telling her he understood after all.

She opened her mouth to respond, although she had no idea what she was going to say, when someone grabbed her roughly from behind.

"Doctor!" she screeched, struggling to free herself for the second time that day from the Master's grip. She subsided only when he pressed the barrel of a deadly looking weapon against her head. With the disgusted thought that she should have known he'd pull a gun when the odds weren't so much in his favor, Tegan froze, looking helplessly at the Doctor.

He'd spun around at the sound of her yell and half-risen to his feet, only to double over in agony as another wave of the drug coursed through his beleaguered system.

"Not so soon," Tegan protested involuntarily, her eyes wide with horrified sympathy, her own body tensing as he managed, somehow, to bring himself back to his feet. She gave a started yelp as the Master suddenly released her, pushing her toward the Doctor. The renegade Time Lord gave an evil chuckle as the Doctor grasped her arms to keep her from stumbling against him, his grip tightening in desperation before he forced himself, somehow, to release her.

She moved, just a little, enough to bring her out of his direct line of sight, although she had no idea if that would work at this point. The Doctor shuddered, once, and his knees almost buckled. He kept to his feet, though, leaning heavily against the computer console as the Master watched with an expression of academic interest. The Doctor's breathing was ragged and uneven, his eyes unfocused, body taut and face contorted as he struggled for control of himself.

"How remarkable," a new voice exclaimed.

Tegan stared in astonishment at the newcomer. The creature she saw standing slightly behind the Master reminded her of nothing so much as an oversized bee, its two spindly legs out of proportion to its squat, rounded body, bringing it almost to Tegan's height. There were four eyes on the narrow, fuzz-covered head, faceted like those of an insect, no nose that she could discern, a beak-like mouth, and two short antennae on the top of the head. Two long, double-jointed arms ended in hands that contained six pincer-tipped fingers apiece. The creature had no shoulders to speak of, so the arms stuck out at odd angles from its gray-and-maroon-striped body. It held the discarded scanner in one hand and some other, unidentifiable piece of equipment in the other. Its words were underscored by a high-pitched, raspy buzz, adding to the image of an oversized bee, and not incidentally making Tegan's teeth itch.

"Keeper Oldarz, I presume," the Doctor managed, his voice barely a whisper.


	8. The Plan for Galactic Peace

The Keeper stared at the Doctor with a puzzled expression on its—his?—face. "Formulating coherent thoughts and verbalizing those thoughts while in the middle of a hormonal surge; absolutely remarkable," he mumbled, reaching down to make some kind of adjustment to the scanner. He shook his head at the results and looked back at the Time Lord, whose breathing was finally returning to something resembling normal. The Doctor was able to stand more or less on his own once again, Tegan noted with relief.

"I must say I am impressed by both your self-control and the fact that Mythiryal seems to work extremely well on Time Lords," Oldarz continued. "I have never seen it act so intensely before, on any of the subjects of my experiments."

"You sound surprised; weren't you watching it affect me earlier?" the Doctor asked, his voice laced with exhaustion. He was winning over his body's demands, but the struggle was taking its toll. "Or weren't you keeping your 'experiment' under observation?" His voice grew heavy with sarcasm. Tegan moved closer since it was obvious he was back in control of himself, allowed him to rest a hand on her shoulder. Whether it was to reassure her or to support himself, she wasn't sure.

"I am not a voyeur," the Keeper replied stiffly. "My interest is not in the reproductive act itself, merely its consequences." His voice grew haughty. "This is a scientific experiment."

"Look, mate, this may be an experiment to you, but it's our lives your mucking with!" Tegan took a threatening step forward, the Doctor's hand tightening on her shoulder to prevent further movement. Keeper Oldarz backed up in alarm, clutching the scanner to his chest protectively. The Master merely pointed his deadly looking weapon at her midsection, holding it there until she retreated sullenly to the Doctor's side.

"My experiments are for the greater good; you should be grateful for your involvement," Oldarz buzzed self-righteously. "My studies will improve the quality of life for the entire galaxy. Indeed, the entire universe!"

"In what way?" The Doctor sounded truly curious. Leave it to him to get caught up in the scientific aspects of such a horrific situation. Tegan found it maddening, yet comforting at the same time. Even under these circumstances, the Doctor was still himself.

"Why do beings go to war with one another, for what seem to be the most petty and self-serving reasons? Why do strangers try to kill each other on sight, with no provocation?" Oldarz asked. "For the simple reason that they fear that which is different, and hate that which they fear. My solution is as simple as the problem; remove the differences, and you remove the motive for much of the evil in the galaxy." He warmed to his subject, apparently eager to offer his explanation and justification to his captive audience. "When I discovered the properties of Mythiryal, it gave me the glimmering of an idea. Why not begin a program of cross-breeding between genetically compatible beings? Handled correctly, I would eventually encompass all intelligent species, until in the end there was only one, united species in the galaxy." His eyes shown with conviction or obsession.

_Completely bonkers,_ Tegan decided with a mental shake of the head. _Why do all the really loony ones have access to the best equipment?_

"And you began with humanoids?" the Doctor asked, sounding completely absorbed in the Keeper's words. Tegan managed to keep her mouth shut, although she couldn't help glaring at him for encouraging this...lunatic. But the Doctor never did anything without a purpose, so she simply waited. "Presumably because they are the dominant life form in this quadrant of the galaxy?"

Oldarz nodded eagerly. "Yes, that's exactly it," he replied, his buzzing voice rising in pitch. "I despaired of ever acquiring a Time Lord specimen, until the Master came to my aid. He did not feel that he himself would be a suitable subject, owing to his altered physiognomy, but offered to bring me someone who would do."

"How very obliging of him," the Doctor interjected drily, while Tegan shot a poisonous glare at the Time Lord in question. "Altered physiognomy," indeed. He'd hijacked Nyssa's father's body for his own use, a fact that neither the Doctor nor Tegan would ever forget. The Master merely smiled. Not a pleasant sight, that smile; Tegan shuddered and turned her eyes away. It was not a smile that boded well for either her or her companion.

"Do the other Keepers approve of this plan of yours for galactic peace?" the Doctor asked shrewdly.

It was the right question; Tegan could tell by the way all four of Oldarz' eyes slid away from them, especially avoiding the Master's triumphant smirk. "My associates are not as forward-thinking as they would like to believe themselves. I have therefore kept the nature of my research confidential," Oldarz replied stiffly, the buzz lowering to a more tolerable level.

The Doctor shook his head. "Not for much longer, I'm afraid."

Oldarz stiffened in alarm. "What do you mean?"

"I've sent a message to the Head Keeper, asking him to join us here." The Doctor indicated the laboratory, his expression pleasantly neutral.

"No! I'm not prepared to discuss my findings yet; the experiment is still at a very early stage!" Oldarz' voice rose to a dismayed squawk. His antennae twitched in agitation. "I haven't gathered enough data to conclusively prove my theories!" Two of his eyes rolled toward the Master beseechingly. "They're your kind, reason with them!"

"I'm afraid it's too late for that," the Master shrugged. He reached up to adjust the setting on his blaster. Tegan paled as she saw him push the lever to the end. To kill. "It's a pity things haven't worked out the way I planned, but I've learned to adjust to these little...setbacks. I've also learned," his voice turned deadly, "when to cut my losses."

Tegan clutched the Doctor's arm convulsively as she realized that the Master intended to murder them in cold blood. Her companion merely patted her hand distractedly, his eyes locked with those of their adversary.

Keeper Oldarz grasped the Master's intention almost as quickly as the others did. All four eyes widened in horror, and he grabbed the Master's wrist, tugging in a futile effort to pull the weapon away. "No! I want no part of murder! They are not to be harmed that has nothing to do with my research!" The buzzing behind his words rose to an agitated frenzy, his voice pitched higher with every distressed word, almost too high for comfort.

"Too bad," the Master replied curtly. "Do you think I care for one moment about your precious plans for universal peace?" His sneering words seemed to shock Keeper Oldarz, who backed up a step and stared at his erstwhile ally in disbelief. "Revenge is all I'm interested in, and if I can't have it one way, then I shall have it another." He brought the gun around once more, pointed it directly at Tegan's midsection. She froze, unable to move, barely able to think. "Say good-bye to your specimens," the Master said mockingly. His finger tightened slowly on the trigger.

"NO!"

Oldarz jumped forward with a howl, directly into the path of the beam. It sliced through the Keeper with a horrifying whine of destruction, liberally spraying the two captives with deep burgundy blood.

Tegan screamed and stumbled away, her face a mask of horror. Most of the weapons she'd seen during her time with the Doctor had been "clean" killers, that either disintegrated the body entirely or left it virtually intact, with barely a mark to indicate how the person had met their death. This gun appeared particularly brutal; no wonder it was the Master's choice for his weapon of vengeance. She backed further away from the body, stopped only by the jutting corner of the console. She clutched it convulsively, unable to go any further. Her mind had sustained one too many shocks in too short a period of time.

The Master cursed as the Doctor jumped over the fragmented remains of Oldarz' body to grapple for possession of the gun. The fight was brutal, vicious, and blessedly short-lived. Just as the Doctor managed to wrestle the weapon away from his enemy, the hum of a transmat filled the room. He was only distracted for a moment, but it was enough. The Master reached up and depressed the gold button on his collar, disappearing from view just as the Doctor whipped the blaster around to him.


	9. Confrontations

"We are sorry, Doctor."

The Head Keeper's voice was a gentle buzz, in soothing contrast to Oldarz' high-pitched rasp. Explanations had been offered, the blaster surrendered, and a futile search for the Master begun and ended. "We were unaware of your presence until I received your message. We found your traveling device in Keeper Oldarz' personal quarters." He indicated the TARDIS, then dropped his hand. "It is obvious that our colleague worked willingly with the Master, that there was no coercion involved," he continued, gazing sorrowfully down at Oldarz' bisected body. It lay on a litter, ready to be beamed out to the Keeper's burial mounds on the southern continent.

"Even more horrendous, we have discovered the evidence you told us about, showing that you are not the first victims of his...insanity," he added in a tone of bitter self-reproach. "His notes were just where you said they would be; Oldarz has been experimenting on sentient beings for many years now. We are in the process of locating and releasing the other prisoners and their offspring."

"And you never knew?" Tegan demanded, outraged. "Never even suspected?"

The Head Keeper bowed his head in shame. "We often collaborate with outworlders, and we have not been in the habit of monitoring each other's private experiments."

"Maybe it's time to change habits," Tegan snapped.

The Doctor frowned, but the Head Keeper simply nodded. "Perhaps you are right. Our only defense is the fact that nothing like this has ever happened before, during our rather lengthy history. Keeper Oldarz presented regular reports on his other work that raised no suspicions. It was only in his private laboratories that he committed such...atrocities." He raised his eyes to the Doctor and Tegan, a tortured expression in all four of them. "Doctor, I regret to inform you that we know of no antidote for the Mythiryal. From what we have determined, once administered, it must run its full course."

"I understand," the Doctor replied, sounding far more forgiving than Tegan felt.

"We will do everything in our power to create an antidote, but I fear it may take us a long time. Too long to help you," the Head Keeper added sorrowfully.

The Doctor nodded. "Please, don't worry about it," he said reassuringly. "I'm something of a scientist myself, and I know one or two people who might be able to help find a solution." He held up a tray of vials. "I believe I've taken enough samples for my research. Right now, however, I think it would be best if we left. When I do find an antidote," he added with what sounded like his normal optimism, "I'll make sure you receive a copy of the formula. Just in case." He turned and strode purposefully for the TARDIS.

The Head Keeper nodded gravely at the Time Lord's back, and Tegan bit her lip to keep from screaming accusations at him. It wasn't his fault, after all, and the culprits had already been punished. At least, one of them had. The Master was entirely too good at making last-minute escapes. She merely nodded at the Head Keeper's farewells and continued apologies, her mind racing as she followed the Doctor onto the TARDIS.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Tegan looked around the familiar console room, her heart skipping as it always did when she entered that improbable police call box, then turned her gaze to the Doctor. "You were stalling for time, when the Master and Keeper Oldarz showed up," she said conversationally. "Waiting for the Head Keeper to come charging in with the cavalry."

"I knew this had to be the work of a single Keeper or, at most, a small group of them," the Doctor replied as he stopped in front of the console and carefully balanced the tray of vials on it. "I gambled that the Head Keeper was unaware of what Oldarz was really up to."

Tegan nodded, leaning back against the wall with feigned casualness. "What are you going to do now?" She stood very still, heart pounding as she waited for his answer. She had a feeling she knew what it would be, and she had her own answer ready. If she could steel herself to go through with it.

The Doctor shrugged, avoiding her gaze. "I'm going to bring you home," he replied, just as she expected. "Then I'm going to find an antidote for the Mythiryal, as I promised the Head Keeper."

"Just like that," Tegan replied, snapping her fingers with airy sarcasm.

The Doctor nodded, his hands moving over the console. "Just like that," he agreed, studiously ignoring her. "Now. Where were you when you were taken? Brisbane? London?"

Tegan's only response was to walk over and stand in front of him, arms tightly crossed, heart beating so fast and loud she felt certain he must be able to hear it. "You know," she said deliberately, "the Master said Mythiryal works better if there's already an attraction." The Doctor shrugged and reached for the controls.

Tegan, greatly daring, placed a restraining hand over his. He stopped, waiting patiently for her to finish. "You heard Keeper Oldarz; he said he'd never seen it act so intensely before." She took a deep breath before plunging ahead with her final question. "What does that tell you?"

The Doctor shrugged again. "What should it be telling me?"

Tegan bit her lip in indecision. As she struggled for the right words, he pulled his hand away gently, then finished entering their destination coordinates.

Tegan waited until he'd finished and turned to face her. She waited even longer, for him to open his mouth to say "Now Tegan..." before darting forward, seizing his head between her hands, and kissing him.

She put everything into that kiss, all the passion she'd held back in the laboratory, every ounce of longing and desire she'd suppressed over the years since first meeting him, all the emotions she'd fought so hard to deny. He might still be under the influence of the Mythiryal, but they were free of other constraints or concerns, no longer captives at the whim of Oldarz or the Master. And she couldn't allow the Doctor to sacrifice himself out of some misplaced desire to spare her. Not when it was in her power to save him.

Not that she fooled herself for an instant into believing she was being noble or unselfish. No, she knew exactly what she was doing, and why. She wanted him, she loved him, had loved him so desperately for so long without admitting it even to herself, and it was now or never. She might never find the courage to do something like this ever again, even if the Doctor were around to let her.

The Doctor stiffened with surprise when Tegan pulled him to her, bringing his face to meet hers in a kiss that seared him to his very soul. He put his hands on her shoulders with the intention of pushing her away; she could feel the hesitation before he suddenly pulled her closer, returning the kiss in full measure, wrapping his arms around her body in sudden urgency, pressing against her so she could feel the full extent of his arousal, the heat of his desire before pulling abruptly away.

"Tegan, I can't let you do this," the Doctor said hoarsely.

"Why not?" Tegan cried in frustration. "Doctor, I want to help, I won't let you sacrifice yourself, and you know damn well that I want this, too!"

"That's why I can't," he interrupted harshly. He stepped away. "There's something you don't understand."

"Then tell me," she replied, face and voice equally bewildered. "Make me understand."

"I've metabolized the Mythiryal," came the Doctor's quiet response.

Tegan blinked in surprise. "You've what?" She took an uncertain step backward, furthering the distance between them. That quickly, the situation had changed.

"I've metabolized the Mythiryal. That last 'attack' in the lab was actually my body working to neutralize it." The Doctor studied Tegan from beneath his eyelashes. "It's no longer affecting me."

The play of emotions across her face was fascinating to watch; relief and regret and a fleeting, hastily suppressed glimpse of not-unexpected disappointment. "Well," Tegan said, then stopped, momentarily at a loss for words. She tried again: "Well, that's the end of that, then." Another pause. "So you'll still try and work up an antidote? For the Head Keeper to use?" She was groping for normality, embarrassed by her unnecessary attempt at seduction.

The Doctor nodded, bringing his gaze to meet hers. Tegan continued to back away, stopping only when she bumped into the wall near the interior door. "I did promise," he reminded her softly.

"Of course you did," Tegan mumbled. She had her voice under control now, but her eyes still reflected her inner turmoil. This was not at all how she'd expected things to turn out. She felt her face burning with embarrassment. She'd thrown herself at a man she'd believed drugged and facing death, only to discover that neither condition existed. She wondered how she'd manage the trip back to London without dying of shame. Without facing him.

The Doctor stared at the console for a moment, then seemed to reach a decision. He turned and walked over to stand in front of her, deliberately moving closer and closer until she was forced to look up to meet his eyes. "I have one question I would like to ask you, if you don't mind." Tegan nodded uncertainly. "Why did you leave? Really?" He continued to gaze steadily at her as he waited for the answer.

It was a long moment before Tegan found her voice. "I don't know," she finally confessed. "I guess I was just...confused. Frightened and confused."

"About what?" the Doctor continued relentlessly, leaning one arm against the wall in a manner that left no doubts as to his desire to keep her where she was; there would be no running away. Not this time. "What exactly was it that frightened and confused you? The lack of fun?" There was deliberate irony in his voice as he asked that question, and Tegan realized guiltily that she was caught. That he knew that the reasons she gave him for leaving had been desperate lies. That he had always known.

"What is this, twenty bloody questions?" she snapped, taking defense in anger as she ducked under his arm, moving only a short distance away before stopping and fixing him with a murderous glare. She did not want to answer the questions he was posing her. "I had enough, I was ready to go home, so I left. What's so difficult to understand about that?"

The Doctor shook his head. "I think I understand all too well," he replied, lifting a hand to rub wearily at his eyes. "I'd changed, at least that's what you believed, and you didn't like who I was becoming."

"You were so cold," Tegan whispered as she stared unseeingly into the past, the horrific events of the Dalek invasion flashing through her mind's eye. "I'd never seen you seem so…so… _alien_."

The Doctor sighed. "There it is, the word I've been waiting for. I _am_ an alien, Tegan." He grasped her hand by the wrist, laying it gently on the right side of his chest. "Two hearts, remember?" He moved her hand over to the left side of his chest, held it there for a pair of heartbeats, then finally released his grip.

Tegan snatched her hand back as if he'd held it over an open flame, cradling it in her other hand. "I know. I just…sometimes it's so easy to fool myself into believing you're more human than you really are." She turned her head aside, unable to face him. "And I wanted to take advantage of your condition as much as I wanted to help you through it," she admitted in a low voice. "I'm so stupid. I'm sorry."

"Never be sorry for being yourself," the Doctor chastised her harshly. She swallowed, hard, trying to force down the tears that wanted out. She'd be damned if she'd start wallowing like some discarded lover in a romance novel.

Without warning, the Doctor moved closer to her, reaching out to cup her chin in one hand and forcing her face up to meet his gaze. "Never apologize for being human, for being a woman, for having wants and needs and feelings," he whispered, then bent down with a swiftness she hadn't expected and kissed her.

Tegan went completely still, as if his touch had the magical ability to turn her into stone. "I thought you said you metabolized the drug," she whispered when he pulled away. Her eyes were wide and fearful, but there was an uncertain hope in them as well.

"I did," he replied. "That was why I stopped you, why we couldn't…not while you were laboring under a misapprehension," he continued in a rush. "Not without admitting to myself why it was affecting me so powerfully." He released his hold on her and stepped back as she stood, immobilized by his words, unable to do more than stare at him. "When you kissed me just now, what you felt when I kissed you back, that was all me. No drugs, no metaphorical or literal gun to my head. Just me. It was why I let you leave, Tegan. Both times. Because I was finding you more and more difficult to resist."

"But you're not resisting now?" Tegan whispered, unsure of what she was hearing but almost afraid of clarification.

The Doctor shook his head. "I'm not. Not if that's what you want as well."

There was no mistaking the invitation in the Doctor's eyes. An invitation that had nothing to do with drug-induced desire. Tegan hesitated, staring at him from the distance he'd put between their bodies. Only a few small steps, but they seemed impossibly difficult to take. And he wasn't moving, just standing there. Waiting for her to decide how this scene was going to play out. Allowing it to be her choice.

A choice she'd never expected to be given.

Tegan moved forward, one step, then another, until there was no space between them. She reached up with trembling fingers to touch his cheek. His eyes closed, then opened again to meet hers. The corners of his lips turned up in a slight smile.

That was all the encouragement she needed.

Both hands sought his face, brought him close enough for her to kiss him for the first time with no coercion, no underlying fear, no guilt or resistance on either part. Only two people who had finally admitted their feelings and were acting on them. She savored that moment before pulling back to stare into eyes that had darkened with desire into a blue so intense she felt she could drown in them.

Suddenly the feel of his lips on hers wasn't enough. She pressed her body against his, her lips parting for a deeper, hungrier kiss that nearly took his breath away, her hands tightening on either side of his face as she tried to show him with mouth and body what she found so hard to say with words.

The Doctor's arms wrapped around Tegan, almost of their own accord, as he returned the kiss. He pulled away as she gazed into his eyes before kissing them softly. His lips moved to her cheek, to her ear, down to her mouth once again.

Tegan returned the kiss in full measure, holding the Doctor even closer, as if afraid he would vanish if she let him go, even for an instant. Dream had become nightmare had become dream once again, and she was determined to make the most of the situation.


	10. Loving the Alien

The Doctor, it seemed, agreed with her wholeheartedly; he lifted her into his arms with ease and headed for the interior door to the TARDIS. Tegan twined her arms around his neck and nestled comfortably in his embrace as he fumbled the door open, not bothering to close it behind them as he strode quickly down the hall.

He stopped at the first door they reached; realizing it was a bedroom meant that they went no further. Tegan giggled as he settled her on the queen-sized bed and turned to shut the door. "No one's going to walk in on us," she reminded him. Then, as a thought struck her, she added uneasily: "Are they?"

"I'm traveling solo for the moment," the Doctor assured her, glad he'd left Peri visiting friends back on Earth for a few days. Not that he was embarrassed at what they were about to do, but it was much less awkward this way.

He turned back to the bed, pulling his jumper over his head and tossing it to the floor before reaching for Tegan, kissing her fervently as his fingers unerringly found the zip to her coveralls and pulled it down, down, all the way down to her navel. She shrugged her arms out of the denim-like material, laughing as they stuck. He pulled her close to capture another kiss while she squirmed her way free of the sleeves.

She shivered as he turned his attention to the rest of her clothing, sliding his hands down her sides, moving the coveralls slowly but inexorably past her hips, her thighs, smiling slightly as she wriggled herself free of the confining fabric. Once it cleared her feet he tossed it to the floor to join his jumper, then returned to exploring her body, nibbling at the base of her throat while hands slid around the top of her shorts, quickly finding the button and zip and easing them open.

Tegan's fingers were busy undoing the row of buttons on his shirt, tugging it free of his trousers once she'd finished the job. It took longer than it should have, but considering the distraction of the Doctor's hands sliding her shorts and panties down her hips, she was doing as well as could be expected.

Once her clothing was taken care of the Doctor drank in the sight of her naked form, not classically perfect, perhaps, but somehow all the more appealing because of that. "Beautiful," he breathed, and Tegan felt herself flushing with a combination of desire and sudden modesty; did he really find her beautiful? She wouldn't dare ask, but the answer was in his eyes. Turlough's may have been more intensely blue, but the Doctor's had something about them that their former traveling companion never had, something that was sending shivers down Tegan's spine and tingles through the rest of her.

She turned her eyes from his as she clambered to her knees and finished unbuttoning his shirt, adding it to the growing pile of clothes heaped haphazardly on the floor. Then it was her turn to find fasteners and zip and discover that the Doctor wore something like boxers beneath the striped flannels, and that it was remarkably easy to encourage him to discard said piece of clothing once his trousers had joined the untidy heap.

He'd already kicked off his shoes and socks, but when Tegan reached for her wedge-heeled sandals he caught her hand and gave her a wicked smile that turned her spine to butter. "Leave them on; my memories of you always include inappropriately high heels," he whispered, and she nodded dumb acceptance, not sure how good her vocal control would be at the moment.

They were both kneeling, each admiring the other's naked form as the Doctor's fingers stroked her face. She turned to kiss the palm of his hand and before she knew it, she was back in his arms, pressed against him in as intimate an embrace as she'd ever encountered. He was fully aroused, and in case he wondered about her she pulled his head down for a kiss that was meant to convince him he had her full and complete attention, head to toes.

The Doctor moaned as Tegan's tongue teased the edges of his lips, requesting but not demanding entry that was willingly given. His hands were lazily exploring her back, guided this time not by a drug induced haze but of their own free will, tracing her shoulder blades, the curve of her spine, the gentle swell of her buttocks and lower still. She was warm and lovely and kissing her was one of the most pleasurable things he'd ever done; why had he waited so long to taste her, to hold her, to be with her? Foolish Time Lord pride, he supposed; one must hold oneself aloof from the lesser beings, keep a stiff upper lip and emotional distance.

Well, not today. Oh, he would return to it, return to his life without Tegan and she to hers without him, but not today. Not until she told him to take her home.

For now, he thought with an internal chortle, he would just…take her.

Tegan gasped as the Doctor suddenly tightened his hold and laid her down on the bed, bringing his face to hers in sudden urgency, another deep kiss, another tongue-tango, this one not so lazy and exploratory as demanding, fierce as a sudden storm and as overwhelming to the senses.

When Tegan pulled away from sheer lack of breath, the Doctor immediately found other parts of her to kiss; the tip of her ear, the side of her neck, the top of her clavicle, the tip of first one breast and then the other, all while Tegan made delightfully agreeable noises deep in her throat. Her fingers were busily investigating whatever parts of him she could reach from her position on her back; teasing his hair, brushing against his ear, trailing down his shoulders and arms.

Enough of that, however pleasant; on to the business at hand. The Doctor's gentle kisses became more insistent as he continued to move from one breast to the other, tongue darting out to tease the nipples into hard little nubs just aching to be sucked into submission. Tegan's moans became louder, her fingers tightened on his shoulders, and her back arched as she begged him with her body for more.

The Doctor was happy to oblige; his fingers slid down her stomach to rest just above the triangle of reddish hair at the apex of legs and torso while his mouth remained occupied with teasing her breasts. He brushed gently at the slick wetness between her legs and Tegan's moans became little gasps and grunts of pleasure as his fingers moved, finding the small nub with his thumb and easing a pair of fingers deeper within her.

Her legs spread apart as if of their own accord, granting him fuller access, and suddenly the fingers were joined by mouth and tongue and the gasps became small screams of pleasure as Tegan writhed beneath his expert ministrations, crying out as he brought her to the brink of orgasm once, twice, a third time before she found her voice again. "Cripes, Doc, don't stop there," she groaned, fingers twisting in his hair to encourage him when he paused one time too many. "God, please, don't stop there!"

He was happy to oblige, and tasted the subtle difference as she climaxed, moaning and shuddering as he brought her over the edge she'd been aching for. He moved up the bed, taking her in his arms as she continued to shake and shiver, hands convulsively clutching his arms, heart racing, breath coming in short pants, body slick with sweat.

When she finally felt herself back under control, she turned to look at him. He was smiling—no, wait, was that a self-satisfied _smirk_ on his face? "You look like the cat that's got the cream," she blurted out without thinking, blushing furiously as his smirk—yes, it was definitely a smirk—deepened.

"Guilty," he replied, unabashed.

Tegan growled low in her throat and pounced, shoving him onto his back and kneeling over him. "Two can play that game," she said, and before he had time to ponder her meaning she kissed him, not at all gently, shoving his arms away when he tried to embrace her. He lay passive in her hold, not sure what to expect when she pulled back abruptly and lowered her head to trail a line of kisses interspersed with light nips and quick darts of her tongue down his throat and torso, ending at the thatch of blonde hair just above his erection.

He sucked in his breath as she grasped that appendage and began stroking vigorously, lips descending and tongue busily demonstrating its skill at something other than speech. His hands lowered of their own accord to her shoulders, the back of her head, moving through her hair and producing a low hum of enjoyment from her throat that resonated along the length of his erection and settled somewhere deep in the pleasure center of his brain. He moaned aloud in startled enjoyment, which caused Tegan to echo the sound again, and again, until he couldn't stand it a second longer and placed his fingers under her chin, raising her head.

"Stop," he gasped, and Tegan slowly sat up with a smirk that mirrored his earlier expression. Slowly, deliberately, she licked her lips, and the Doctor growled low in his throat in response to that provocative movement, reaching out to pull her down, to wrestle her onto the mattress and press his body tightly against hers.

Tegan obliged this new position by opening her legs, just enough to allow entry of the part that had so recently been inside a very different part of her body. She pressed her hands against the Doctor's buttocks to encourage where no encouragement was required, for the sheer pleasure of touching him in his most intimate parts and finding them delightfully human despite the alien nature of her new lover.

They found their rhythm instantly, almost effortlessly, bodies fitted together as if made for each other. The Doctor buried his face in the corner of throat and shoulder, breathing her name, waiting as her breaths grew shorter and her movements sharper, more urgent, waiting, holding back until he felt her moving toward a second climax, allowing her to crest before joining her in sweet release.

**oOo**

They lay together afterward, tangled in each other's embrace. This time when the Doctor held Tegan's hand to his chest and touched her fingers first to one heart, then to the other, it wasn't to remind her of who he was but simply to show her what he'd never be able to find the words to say. Words she wisely kept to herself as well, knowing even as they rested and contemplated what they'd just done and what they intended to do again, that the clock was ticking.

Not even a Time Lord could alter the course they were on. There was no cure for human mortality; no way to stop time for a human heart, or turn it into two hearts in one chest.

"I know why Time Lords have to be so distant," Tegan said suddenly. She was resting her head on his chest and twisted her neck so she could look into his eyes. He made a sound of inquiry and she explained her sudden epiphany: "It's the two hearts thing. Makes you feel things so much more intensely that you have to distance yourselves like medical doctors with terminal patients. Otherwise you'd be too overwhelmed to get on with doing whatever needs doing."

"We're like Vulcans, then, is that it?" he asked in teasing tones, then kissed her to still the indignant response he could see trembling on her lips. Actually, as a theory it wasn't half bad; not scientifically sound, of course, but he knew what she was trying to say.

If she expected him to offer up any other response, a refutation or denial, she abandoned such expectations when he deepened the kiss and pulled her more firmly into his arms. "Two hearts are useful in many ways," he murmured, drawing her hand downward to demonstrate his exact meaning.

She gave a muffled laugh in response. "I'm going to need a first aid kit before the end of the night." She paused, considering her words. "If it is night."

"It's night somewhere," the Doctor confirmed. "And don't worry, I'll draw you a bath later, I've some wonderfully soothing bath salts that'll do the trick."

"Always practical," Tegan said, softening the words with a smile. "That's my Doctor."

And for the duration of the night, he remained just that: _her_ Doctor.


End file.
